A Little Park Bench
by dankedoodles
Summary: AU. After a bad breakup, Demyx heads to the park and gets advice from a curious young man.
1. Chapter 1

As he looked back on it now, he saw just how stupid he had been. When Demyx met her, she was everything he ever wanted in a girl. She was pretty, had an attitude, made him laugh, was in love with his music, and those were all the things he needed to know about her to fall completely and totally in love with her. And for eight and a half months he had the best time in the world with the best girl in the world.

They did absolutely everything together. After the fourth month, she moved in with him and from then on they were practically joined at the hip. She went to all his shows, he met all of her friends. With a year slowly approaching, he was contentedly snuggling into the idea that she just might be the one.

He couldn't believe how impossibly stupid he was.

Demyx found out while buying her flowers. The other boy could only be described as weirdly perfect. He was the florist at the shop he wandered into, and was as beautiful as the flowers he sold. Despite his job, he had a mysterious side to him that dripped with something dangerous, something almost wicked, and Demyx guessed that's why she chose him instead. He went in to buy her a bouquet of her favourite flowers, he came out with the image of them making out in the back room burned into his mind.

To spite them both, he took the bouquet anyways.

With the rest of the Saturday ahead of him, Demyx did what any regular guy who just caught the love of his life cheating on him with a pansy flower-lover would do. He went to the park. It wasn't far from the shop, and he figured maybe the wide space and fresh air would help him. He followed the brick path into the center of the park, barely paying attention to the people walking past him, laughing and screaming and being too_ happy _for his tastes, and when he finally found a park bench that wasn't occupied by a couple attempting to eat the other's face, he sat down, slamming the flowers down beside him and sighing heavily.

"What is he like?"

Demyx jumped. He hadn't even realised someone else was sitting on the bench. Looking over and eying the man up and down, he raised a brow. His head was ducked and his bangs were blocking a view of his face, but Demyx could tell he was young, possibly even younger than him. He was dressed in a way that you'd expect a teacher to, and he had his finger on the page of a book in his lap. The musician immediately thought of someone you'd think was living in a bookstore.

Remembering that he had to speak, he worked to remember how. "...W...what?"

"What is he like?" The man repeated, still not looking up from his book, his finger slowly inching across the page. The hell was he talking about?

"Uhm... what is who like?"

"The guy she picked. I'm guesing she must've been lovely, considering the flowers."

Demyx couldn't even remember seeing this guy look up to even notice he had flowers. And how could he smell them from over there...? Or more importantly, how did he know all that? "I, uh... who are you?"

"You don't know me," the man chuckled, and Demyx wished he would look up from that damn book so he could at least see what he looked like, "and I don't know you. I'm merely curious."

"H-hey, how do you know all of this-"

"I heard you walking." He interrupted him, looking away from the book and leaning back against the bench, but his bangs were still keeping the blond from seeing his face. "And judging by the way you stomped up here like an angry teenager, I'm guessing you're young. I smelled the flowers the instant you sat down- Forget-me-nots, by the smell of them- and I'm guessing again that they're for a girl. But with the way you sighed like that, I'm going to make another guess and say there was another guy."

For a moment, Demyx was utterly speechless. Sure, he had always been good at reading people and figuring them out, but... this guy was able to find out all that from just the way he sat down? What was he, a spy? And what's next, he's able to retell Demyx's entire childhood by the way he stands up? "I... who are you?" His tone held something almost like awe in it, because even if the guy did seem a bit creepy, that was... kind of cool.

"My name is Zexion. What was she like?" The man questioned him, closing the book in his lap.

Demyx wondered whether or not he should tell him-Zexion- anything. It was a little personal, wasn't it...? You didn't tell strangers personal things! ...But you often didn't meet strangers again, did you? Mentally shrugging, he decided why not. He could tell a complete stranger the story of his love life. "She was... well, amazing. Beautiful, spunky, into everything that I was..."

"How long were you together?"

"Eight and a half months." Demyx slouched back against the bench, his tone growing bitter. All that time felt wasted now, with how she carelessly tossed him aside for some... hippie. Demyx had to wonder how long they were together. "I feel like an idiot."

"Mmm..." Demyx saw him nod out of the corner of his eye. "But is it worth it, though? To feel like an idiot?"

"...Why do you say that?" What was this guy, exactly? A shrink?

"You were together for almost nine months, right...? Well, it doesn't seem like she's worth it if she'd drop you so quickly after that long of being together." Well, he_ did _have a point. Maybe she isn't worth being upset over...

"You know what... I guess you're right." Demyx perked up, thinking it over and seeing how much sense it made. He was better than her. He'd never even dream of doing something like that... So why be angry over someone that low? "Thanks, uh..."

"Zexion." The man reminded him, standing and tucking the book under his arm as his free hand grabbed a hold of something that had been propped up beside the bench. "And you're welcome." With that, he turned, and Demyx finally got a look of his face- or at least the parts that the dark glasses he wore didn't cover. He was young-looking, confirming his earlier impression, but had this... feel to him of someone older. Wiser. The thing he had grabbed turned out to be a long, white cane of some kind, and as he walked away he poked at the space ahead of him, giving Demyx a startling realisation that left him without words once more.

Zexion was blind.


	2. Chapter 2

AN; Thanks so much for the reviews! x3 They make my day.

* * *

Demyx didn't leave the park immediately, finding himself too stunned to move after Zexion left. That explained why he seemed so weird when he first saw him, now that he thought about it... The lack of eye contact, the way he was reading the book... He felt a little silly for not being able to figure it out from the way he had been reading, trailing his finger along the raised bumps on the obviously blank page that Demyx never registered. Why else would the guy have been reading like that?

No matter how hard he tried to think of something else, his mind kept going back to Zexion. Sure, he had only talked to him for maybe ten minutes, but there was something about him that left Demyx wanting to know more. But in a city this big, meeting a stranger again seemed highly unlikely unless you knew more about them than just their name. So maybe he wouldn't meet the the guy again, but he couldn't deny the advice he gave him was actually pretty helpful. Even when he got home and was left to the quiet emptiness of his apartment, he didn't find himself sad over the loss of the company his girlfriend- or ex-girlfriend, as he should say- provided. In fact, after what had happened today, he found himself a little... happy, almost, that he was on his own again, and not with a girl like her. It gave him the chance to find someone else, someone better!

Time proved to go quickly when you were stuck in your thoughts, and before he knew it his body was already making a magnetic connection with his bed, pleading for him to go lay down and rest. With his thoughts racing like this sleep was seeming more and more like a challenge, but maybe the rest would help him get control of his thoughts again. As the musician finally laid down and slowly started drifting off to sleep, a final thought came across his mind.

Maybe Zexion made going to the park a daily habit. Maybe, just maybe, if Demyx stopped by tomorrow, he'd see him there again.

* * *

Sundays in the city's park were the nicest out of the rest of the week. Saturdays definitely had the most visitors, but more often or not they were filled with too much energy to be as calming as a Sunday was. The seventh day of the week brought along with it a bright sun, a clear sky, and all the other things needed to make it a perfect day to lazily stroll the park during, and people were eagerly taking advantage of this. The visitors today were as relaxed as always, slowly enjoying the day before the inevitable return to work or school the next came along.

All but one young musician, that is.

He told himself that he wasn't going to get too excited over it, because who knew if Zexion was even going to be there? But the closer he got to the park, the more anxious Demyx grew. What if he wasn't there? There wasn't much point into being at the park if he wasn't...! What if he only came on Saturdays? He'd have to wait an entire week to see the guy again! Demyx couldn't figure out for the life of him why the thought of future contact being impossible was seeming so... disappointing, almost. He was clearly an interesting guy, if not a bit odd in his opinion, and he'd most definitely be someone worth talking to.

The blond was so caught up in his thoughts(once again- it seemed the sleep didn't clear his mind after all) that he almost missed him as he strolled past. Reading. Again. Same bench as yesterday, too. Well... that made things a lot easier. Triumphantly, he walked over, trying to make himself sound different from yesterday. See if the guy could figure out his life story now! Moving calmly, he sat down in the same spot as the day before, leaning back against the bench and opening his mouth to say hello-

"I didn't expect you to come back."

"...h-how did you _know?_" He practically whined, turning to face him in exasperation. He'd been so careful, too...!

"You smell like bananas." Zexion chuckled, closing the book in his lap and setting it on his lap. "Bananas and... vanilla, I think. Something like that."

Demyx would be very, very close to thinking he was crazy if it wasn't for the fact he washed his hair with banana-scented shampoo and his body with vanilla-scented soap. This guy was good. Very good. "Y...yeah, it's vanilla. Geeze, there's no surprising you, is there?"

"Not at all." Though Demyx couldn't see it, Zexion's hair still blocking the view of his face, he was smiling. "I didn't catch your name yesterday."

"I'm, uh... Demyx." He still wasn't sure whether to be fascinated or creeped out, instead settling oddly between a combination of them both that was leaning more towards fascinated.

"It's nice to meet you, Demyx. What brings you here again...?"

"I don't know, really..." He chose the honest route. He didn't really know _why_ he was so eager to see him again. "I wanted to thank you for yesterday. The advice and all, I mean. That really did help a lot, and-"

"You're welcome." Zexion interrupted, and instead of finding it rude, Demyx wanted to thank him again for getting him to stop rambling. He held it back. "It was the least I could do."

"Yeah, but... why did you?" That was another thing that he kept thinking about. Zexion didn't know him and he didn't know Zexion. Demyx was a complete stranger, but he still took time to make him feel better. Why?

The bluenette was quiet for a moment, possibly in thought. "Well... I wasn't just going to sit there and let you beat yourself up. And besides, I enjoyed your company."

That took Demyx a bit by surprise. They hadn't even talked for that long! "You what?"

"I enjoyed your company." Zexion repeated. "It was nice to talk to someone for a change."

"Well... you're welcome!"

"Heh. Anyways, it's about time I leave." The man gathered his book in his arms again, grabbing the cane beside him as he had done yesterday. "Try stopping by again tomorrow earlier if you can? You've been coming just around the time I leave." He laughed softly as he stood.

He hadn't thought about coming earlier than he had yesterday... But at least this time he had an invitation to see him that assured he would be there, unlike the near-frantic searching earlier. "Alright! Will do, Zexion!"

They exchanged their goodbyes, and Demyx lingered behind to watch him leave, amazed how the sightless man navigated effortlessly through the people. He really did come here a lot if he knew the area so well... Or maybe that meant he hadn't always been blind?


	3. Chapter 3

Zexion had noticed lately that he'd fallen into a rut, and he wanted very much to get out of it. That, however, was proving to be difficult.

Every morning he'd wake up and start his day with the same routine as the previous day. Undress, shower, redress, eat a small breakfast he didn't care for that was always either toast with jam or butter, and go to the park and attempt to read in his habitual hour visit. What happened after that depended on if the book he was reading was interesting enough, or if it was a Monday, Wednesday, or Friday, those being the days his help arrived.

He didn't know how bad the rut must be getting if he was starting to think of his closest friend as the 'help'.

And that was why he was trying to do something different. Something to break the repetitive schedule that was getting him nowhere and only making the days seem bland. His first attempt at that had been the trips to the park, which he had started three months ago. The city had a simple enough layout that made it easy for him to find his way to the few places he ever went to, with the very occasional need to ask a stranger for directions, and the people of the city were rarely ever reluctant to help him. That, at least, was one less burden to worry about.

The trips to the park had been fun at first, refreshing at least, but after so long it just became another part of the boring routine he'd fallen into. The people in the park were usually social people who interacted with each other, never stopped to start a conversation. There was never any company. Never any small talk. He just started fading into the background and becoming another part of the park. Zexion had tried to come to terms with this, saying at least he had the quiet to read in, but the more visits to the park he made the more he longed for someone to talk to.

He was about to give up and accept the routine and the rut.

And that's when Demyx had come along.

He noticed something was wrong immediately, but he wasn't planning on saying anything at first. Zexion didn't know what kind of person he might be sitting next to, and figured that staying quiet was staying safe. But as he thought about it, it seemed like wasting an opportunity. Sure, he might be instantly brushed off and scolded for asking if something was wrong, but it was worth the try, wasn't it? It'd be more interaction with someone other than his only friend, and that was better than nothing.

So with that thought, he spoke to him, and was genuinely surprised that the man didn't try to end the conversation. In fact, by the end it seemed that he even appreciated it. Zexion was pleased he was able to help someone, and all but ecstatic he was able to break the monotony of his schedule. As he left, Zexion couldn't help but wonder if he'd meet up with the man again. Despite the size of the city, running into the same person twice wasn't impossible. He didn't plan on getting his hopes up, but with his constant trips to the park, maybe it was more likely than he thought.

The second visit, though it was only slightly longer than the first, was making him glad that he hadn't given up going to the park like he'd been wanting to lately. But of course Demyx had to come right when he was about to leave again, and Zexion would've stayed longer if it wasn't for the fact that he had to work that day.

Work.

He frowned at just the thought of doing nothing but answering phones for four hours straight. He could be teaching a class of students the wonders of English and literature- he had the smarts and the college degree for it, after all- but he'd be damned if he could find a school willing to hire him. He had been trying his hardest to find something he'd enjoy, but money was running out and the telemarketing job was the only thing willing to take him that seemed stable. Zexion absolutely hated it, but money was money and his dreams would have to wait for now, at least until he found the opportunity he was looking for.

At least the third visit was longer.

Demyx had come earlier the next day, as he had promised, and the two were able to say more than a few sentences to each other. The man was quick to fall into the conversation, and by the end of it Zexion had collected he was only three years older than him, he was a musician, and he was in the same boat as Zexion when it came to jobs interfering with dreams. Though instead of teaching turning into telemarketing, for Demyx it was being the next music sensation turning into waiting tables the first half of the day, cooking the last half, and playing small gigs wherever he could at night. At least his job didn't mean being considered part of the most annoying group of people on the planet.

Demyx had to leave the same time that he did, both of them needed at their respective dreaded jobs, but they left with a promise to meet up again at the same time and in the same spot tomorrow.

He wasn't surprised, but this had become a habit for Zexion and he had a feeling this would be just as hard to stop as the visits. He should've known by the third visit that Demyx was the type of person you found yourself talking to more and more, but by the time their meet-ups in the park became just as habitual as the rest of their days, he was amazed at how much he learned in just a short amount of time. Demyx did most of the talking, but he didn't mind that. It was interesting to hear his stories, the tales ranging from mischievous days of high school to the shows he played regularly at small clubs and bars.

Zexion particularly enjoyed hearing him talk about his shows. The young man had a knack for description, and by the time he was done excitedly telling about everything from the feel of being under the spotlight to the noise of the crowd on him as they cheered and clapped, the blunette knew so much about it that it almost felt like a memory of his own. Demyx promised him that he'd take him to one of his shows, even guaranteed a front seat, and Zexion relished in the feel of a newfound friend.

But after the third week, it was obvious the both of them needed change again. The park was nice, sure, but they needed different scenery after so long. For a long moment they were both silent in thought, wondering where they could go when Demyx suddenly piped up with the idea of going to a coffee shop not too far away from the park. He explained the way there and Zexion remembered he'd been there once or twice. The two set up a meeting for this Saturday- that and Sunday being the only days they really had time to do anything- and when the time come that they both had to leave for work, it was obvious they were equally excited.

It was only Wednesday, and though it might not be_ that _far, something told Zexion that it was going to feel like forever.


End file.
